David, twenty-seven, wild hair, tattoos, think Post Malone if he lived at the gym. My first drug dealer in LA. A perfect fit for me. Laid back and always available within a few hours notice.
Usually, we met in the parking lot of Circus Liquor or the Dennys next door. The weed wrapped in napkins, paper cups, or in a rolled up a Playboy magazine.
Sometimes David asked me to come to his house a few miles away. A Pitt-bull at the front door and a different male or female in his bed or on the couch.
"Hey, dude."
"Hi David"
"How's life baby-boy?"
"Still breathing."
"That's good to hear"
Every couple of days I bought more weed. I became a top customer for David and his product kept me sane. A dependable drug dealer can be hard to find. I felt lucky having easy access to my drug of choice.
"Get home safe brother."
"I'll try my best."
David's bro demeanor juxtaposed with his horny bi-sexuality. Sometimes I wondered if he kept as many personalities as I did.
YOU ARE READING
BAD ACTING
General FictionAn aspiring actor detailing his first year in Los Angeles as he attempts to break into the Entertainment Industry. Eighteen-year-old Ryan Ash molds himself into an eclectic assortment of odd characters to survive while using these personalities to...
